Fight For Your Life
by Maiden of Sarcasm
Summary: Cassia Simmons is chosen as tribute for the 64th Annual Hunger Games much to her surprise - and even more surprisingly, it was deliberate. Now, Cassia has to fight for her life all at the cost of a Capitol girl's grudge.
1. Chapter 1

I breathe in the oily, foul air as I stand in front of the wooden counter and hand over a few coins. In this particular area of District 5, where all the stores are, it always has the putrid stench of oil and sweat in the air. "Anything else, Cassia?" The gray-haired shopkeeper smiled at me with her empty mouth, devoid of teeth, and hands me the cloth I had come for. "I think that's all," I reply. Turning on the heels of my ratty old sneakers, I leave the market and head away from the Square, trotting towards my home where there is clean air and a much more joyful atmosphere. Nodding my head curtly to our head Peacekeeper, Lucia Greysmith, I continue to stride towards my family's shack. Ducking under a small clump of trees, I glance around to make sure no one has followed me. A grin spreads across my face. Perfect.

I put my hand out and separate a large patch of bushes and ram through the small leaves, entering upon a small dirt path outlined with thick trees. Small, brightly colored flowers had poked their delicate heads through the ground and are littering the path. I swoop down and pull up a few, to make small bouquets for my 6-year-old sisters, Cyra and Felicia. Both have bright, green eyes and shining blonde hair and birthmarks the shapes of hearts on their feet. Cyra is a bull in a china shop; always flying into things, always running, always tripping, and Felicia… Felicia, she is as delicate and sweet as a flower. We have nicknamed her Chia – sweet and short just as she. Cyra is known as Cy. And I am just me – Cassia. Nothing more, nothing less. Simple.

I have come to the end of the tiny path, and I start to lift away some small branches from low-growing trees and bushes when I stop. Leaves and grass on the ground are rustling behind me. I can't afford to be seen on this path because it's, well – illegal. Nobody is allowed here. But I take special circumstances to make a shorter path for home because otherwise it would take me an hour tops to get home if I took that route. And, to tell the wholesome truth, there is always a rotting carcass of some animal around that path. I whirl around and my hand goes to my pants pocket, where I keep a small dagger hidden everyday to ensure myself or others safety. Fragile as I may look, I can fling a dagger, though I'm not quite sure what use I would be with other weapons. I've never had a true need to _use _anything else, I suppose.

I sigh inaudibly and turn around to push the branches away, when suddenly I'm staring right into the familiar face of Francisca Hunt, a wiry little girl with ghostly pale skin and flaming red hair. "Boo!" She grins, and I groan inwardly. Francisca is the most mischievous little girl in 5. "So, excited for the Reaping today?" She screeches excitedly. I had nearly forgotten. It's Francisca's first year, and the Reaping is today. Francisca must have followed me all the way through the woods just to ask me this question. No wonder everyone at the Square seemed excited. In 5 the Reaping is like a holiday – looked happily upon by most because it's one of the only days off that all the power plant workers get. "No, Francisca, I am most certainly _not _excited for the Reaping. Now, go home, you shouldn't get that pretty blue dress dirty." Her eyes shine and she hugs me before prancing off. "And don't let anyone see you!" I call over my shoulder.

Pushing back the branches I come upon a shack, the tin roof beaten down and chipped and patched, and the wooden walls clearly rotting. A neat row of flowers lines the way to the front door, making the scene look much cheerier. I smile. Home. I walk through the flowers and nudge open the door. "I'm home!" I call out, and Felicia and Cyra come running up to me looking fine in small, worn-looking white strap dresses and bows holding back their shining hair. My mother is dazzling in a royal blue dress that is tight on the torso and splays out beginning with a white, chipped belt. My family may be worn-looking but so are all the other families in 5, excluding the victors. My mother looks at me and I can see the stress and worry clear in her tired eyes. She holds out a dress to me, and I take it into the room the twins and I share. Slipping it over my thin body, I look in the mirror.

The dress is a beautiful light purple with a fake gemstone in the middle of the chest. The torso has straps and fits my shoulders with a slight hugging feeling. The skirt of the dress is overlapping squares, making it seem stacked and neat. It complimented my bronze hair and emerald green eyes, making me seem much more beautiful than I had ever considered myself to be. It's truly a shame that the beauty of the dress has to be wasted on such a brutally terrifying even such as the Reaping.

I meet my family in the foyer of our small but comforting home, and take one last glance around the room, letting it all sink in. I feel as though I must do this, considering that this may be the last time I ever see this place. Flinging open the door, I call over my shoulder to my sisters, "Whoever gets to the old tree around the corner first gets to be given a piggy-back ride!" They both race with me to the tree, and I end up carrying Cyra. Felicia catches up with us in due time, my mother trailing behind her, and we finally arrive at the Justice building. With my stomach churning, I am registered, and I go sit with the other 14-year-girls. A loud voice booms over the chattering of the crowd. The famous Capitol phrase blares out.

"Welcome to the 64thAnnual Hunger Games Reaping! And may the odds be _ever _in your favor!"

**Hey! So down to the point – I honestly wish I owned the Hunger Games, but sadly, I don't. *Looks longingly into space***

**After being bored for a while today I thought,"Hey, go make that fanfiction that you were thinking about writing earlier." So this was the outcome.**


	2. All Is Revealed

I stared up at the enormous stage with my heart in my throat as the name-reader woman strode up to the podium. Cianah Kress was clad in all glittery blue. A thin, glittering dress draped around her shoulders and tightened at her hips, hugging her thin waist. Her hair shimmered with what only could be sky-blue hair dye. Waving a blue polished hand adorned with nails at us, she smiles and nods her head graciously. "Welcome to the 64th Hunger Games Reaping! One lucky young man and one young woman will be chosen to participate in the exciting Games!" She beamed, flashing her bright white teeth. My eyes wander over to the glass domes where they keep the tributes names. I know for a fact my name is on 17 of those small but deadly strips. I wonder if I'll be chosen.

I swallowed and stare back at Cianah. She's currently ranting about how exciting the Games are and how lucky we are to get to honor our district. _Honor, shmonor, _I think. _I couldn't care less about it. _ "So, shall we start the Reaping then? Girls, I think you can wait your turn just this once!" Cianah smiles and her perfectly done nails are hovering over the boy's tribute bowl. Dipping her fingers in and searching for a slip, she eventually takes one in her hands and starts to rip apart the tiny strip of tape binding the corners to eachother. Unraveling the slip, she reads out in a clear, excited voice, "And our male tribute… is Marcellus Greene!"

I groan. Marcellus Greene. Oh, his poor, poor family. Marcellus is a 17-year-old boy with 6 younger siblings that he is the main provider for. Flipping back his reddish-brown hair, he stands up and walks over to the podium with a dazed look, as if he can't believe that he was just called. I can see the emotions in his expression, and I'm sure everyone can guess what he's thinking. Who will provide for the family when he's away? And if he doesn't come back, what will happen to them? Suddenly, the second oldest child in their family, Aanisa, is running up to him with tears fresh on her young 13-year-old face. Screaming, she is taken away. "Aani!" Marcellus bellows, trying to get the Peacekeepers away from her. More Peacekeepers are shoving him back towards Cianah, and he finally just sits there.

"Oh, well that was quite the display there, hmm?" She gives the crowd a look of desperation, and almost immediately is back to her bouncing, bubbly self. "So, son, who was that? A girlfriend?" Cianah winks at Marcellus. He glares at her in return. "No," He growls. "That was my sister, you inconsiderate-" "WELL!" Shrieks Cianah. "Let's just get on with the Reaping, now shall we?" She sends him a cold look. Her hand is floating over the girls bowl, and I am swearing inside my head, hoping, _not me, not me, not me, _when her hand dips into the dome and is pulling out a slip. She starts to tell us the tribute. "And our female tribute, for the 64th Hunger Games, is…" She opens the slip, and with a tiny rip of some tape my heart is racing. With a chirping little laugh she cries out, "Cassia Simmons!"

Every last bit of hope I had has just shattered, bursting into a million crystalline pieces inside my head. Fighting back the urge to start screaming or crying, or maybe both, I stand up and make my way over to the stage. "Hurry up now, dear, we don't have all day," calls out Cianah. I shoot her a cold glare and jog up to the stage. Laying an arm over both Marcellus' and I's shoulders, she announces, "Ladies and gentlemen… our tributes, Marcellus Greene and Cassia Simmons! Now, Juliette, would you be so kind as to…?" Cianah gestures to a girl that looks like she is around my age. Juliette is dressed in a tight-fitting strapless pink dress with a humongous, sweeping pink skirt littered with pink cloth roses that starts right at her thighs, and enough glittery makeup to paint a parade float. Something about her seems familiar.

Juliette escorts Marcellus and I to different rooms, to say our goodbyes to our families. After nudging me into a room, she smiles at me eerily. A light somewhere in my head flicks on and I realize; I know this girl. And I hate her. She is a stuck-up, absolute Capitol brat. When we were both 12, at the party the Capitol threw just that one year to celebrate the tributes, I spilled a drink on her dress and she threw a fit, calling me a sloppy pig. That was the last time we saw each other and it sparked a flame of hatred that has burned ever since. "Oh… Flassia, was it? I'm _so sorry _you've been chosen!" she grins. I have a burning urge to slap her. She laughs. "Now, would you really believe that? Anyways, I'm sure you remember the little… incident at the party 2 years ago." She smiles. "Yes, I do." I snap. "You're a nasty, little Capitol brat who doesn't deserve even half of what you get."

Suddenly, she is furious. She slams me against the wall. "Listen, _Simmons,_" she spits out. "You wanna know why you were chosen? I blackmailed the tribute names. All of those slips had your name and your name ONLY on them. I'm going to enjoy watching you get bludgeoned to death, hung, or whatever awful thing awaits you in that arena." Juliette moves her hand up so that I am choking. I stare her straight in the face with what I hope is an expression of pure hatred. "Have fun getting killed out there. And remember… make it exciting. I'd like to enjoy every moment of it." She grins at me once more, and with one sweeping move she has left.


	3. Justus, Food, and Other Things

**Whew! Third chapter. Are you liking this so far, guys? I'd like some feedback. Also, I'm sorry every paragraph runs together in big clumps like that. I'm trying to fix it. Well, anyways, I present to you: Chapter 3!**

I gape at the door with my mouth open in a comical sort of way. But there's nothing comical about my situation at the moment. I sit down and put my head in my hands. Why does she hate me so much? Spilling a drink on a dress she would never wear again anyway seems like such a trivial thing to be furious at each other over. I guess that's just what happens though, when you get on a Capitol girl's bad side.

But if not for Juliette, I wouldn't have been picked as tribute.

Just the very thought sparks a fire in me that quickly turns to full-blown rage. I could be running, weeping with joy over not being chosen, going to celebrate with friends and my family right now. But just because Juliette hates me, I have to say goodbye to my family for what might be the last time. Suddenly, a Peacekeeper holds the door open and my family troops inside. Felicia and Cyra are screaming and crying, and they cling to my legs. My mother looks at me, and immediately embraces me. "Listen, uh," I start, unsure of what to say. "Just… if anything happens to me in the arena, and you know it will, don't let Cyra and Chia watch. Please. And you shouldn't either. Take care of them, okay?" I look her straight in the eyes so she will be able to tell that I'm being serious.

A soft "Alright," escapes her lips. I kneel on the floor and look at Cyra and Felicia's tear-streaked faces. "And you two. Be really helpful while I'm gone, okay? Do everything she tells you." I gesture to my mother as I finish talking. I hug all of them one more time. Whispering a hoarse "I love you" to all of them, I feel myself dangerously close to letting tears fall. As my family leaves the room, I close my eyes, willing myself not to cry. Another knock on the door surprises me. Who else would want to see me?  
In walks Justus Flame, a fair-haired skinny boy that's 16 years old. We're friends, yes, but not dating as everyone in 5 seems to believe. He had rescued Felicia from a wild dog years ago, and that's how we met. Felicia had run off to get blueberries from a bush she had seen. Blueberries are a rarity here, so how could she resist? After picking a few, I guess the dog had discovered her scent and followed her here. So there Chia was, cornered by a wild dog, when Justus had come flying out of nowhere with a gigantic stick. More of a smaller tree limb. He fought shooed the dog away and carried Felicia home.

Justus clears his throat. "Er," He says. I look at him and can tell he's at a loss for words. I'll help him out a bit. "I wasn't supposed to be chosen." He looks at me with a strange look on his face. "I don't think anyone was _supposed _to be chosen, Cass." I sigh in reply and start explaining. By the time I finish, he still has that strange look. "What?" I demand. "Nothing, it's just that… I… uh…" He swallows and I can see him sweating. "Well?" I question.

In a split second he has thrown his arms around me and words are flooding out of his mouth like a waterfall. I catch bits and pieces only to realize he's trying to say that he loves me. I ease his arms off of me, and smile back at him sadly.

"Er. Ditto?" I say. He laughs, and he is then escorted from the room, and is replaced by Cianah, who's talking a mile a minute about how we need to leave so Marcellus and I can meet our mentor. Taking one last glance at the room behind me, we go to the station. I look over at Marcellus, who has just emerged from his small room and is walking towards us. "So, how many people came to say goodbye to you?" He says, his voice flat. I shake my head. "My family and a friend. The most important people I know."

A rush of wind sends my hair flying to the side. The train has arrived. Cianah, Marcellus and I troop in and immediately I nearly turn over a table of glass figurines because I walk straight into it. Steadying the table, I go back to walking. We come out into the most elegant room I've ever seen. Crystal chandeliers are suspended by golden cords on the white ceiling, and the floor is spread out with a deep, rich red carpet that's softer than anything I have ever felt. There are plants I've never seen before decorating corners, and there is a giant fountain featuring a girl and a boy standing side by side, the girl wearing ripped clothes and holding a bow and arrow, the boy wearing shorts and no shirt sporting a spear.

There are booths in this car, so Marcellus slips into one and props his arms on the table. I slide in next to him silently. "I'll go get Sapphira." Cianah says hurriedly. Sapphira Hazlett is our mentor. She won the 59th Games with shards of glass. In those particular games, they were put in an arena where they had to fashion their own weapons. Most tributes had used sharp sticks and rocks, but she had managed to find some pieces of glass in a river nearby, strategically placed there by Gamemakers for anyone who was smart enough to look. Sapphira had used the glass and the poisonous food she had on hand to create a deadly weapon that killed with the first stab.

Sapphira walks in, wearing baggy pants and a tee-shirt. She slips into the booth, tosses her dyed-purple hair behind her ear, and stares at us with her inquisitive, chocolate brown eyes. Kicking her feet up, she looks from me to Marcellus, and sighs. "Well, at least the boy has a chance."

I jump up, extremely angry, and start to rant, but Marcellus stops me. "Be nice! She's the one who authorizes gifts in the arena, she can choose to let us die if she wants!" he hisses in my ear. Clicking her teeth, Sapphira stands up. "'Kay, what's you guys names, and what can you do?" She asks boredly. I jump at the opportunity. "I'm Cassia. I'm great with knives, and spears, and really any weapon you throw at me." So I stretched the truth a little, but who cares? "Ooh, you're so modest." Sapphira rolls her eyes. "But good with any weapon? I'll be the judge of that in the training center."

Marcellus starts out. "I'm Marcellus, and, uh… I'." He says in one breath. "You're what, kid? Speak up, or you're not getting to hear a lick of our strategy." Marcellus repeats what he just said, slowly, and Sapphira groans. "Oh, beautiful." She turns to me. "Maybe you've got a chance after all."

Hours passed, and finally we arrived at the Capitol. I had seen it on TV a fair few times, so it didn't surprise me as much as it did Marcellus. He was in total awe, staring at the screaming people from his seat. Finally, the train stops, and we travel through the city to where we'll be staying.

The place was magnificent. Chandeliers over the enormous tables set out with tons of food items, candies, a chocolate fountain, and a type of brown chicken with some sort of green, spicy sauce on it that reminds me of a forest. Running to a door and placing my hand on the identification keypad, the door flew open and I looked in, to find a room with a bed that looked much softer than the ones at home. I run and fling myself on the bed, with a satisfied sigh, I stare at the ceiling. It's meant to be a forest, looking upwards into treetops. I smile and call out, "This place is amazing!". Hey, if I'm going to die in a week anyways, why not enjoy what time I have left? With a last sigh, I fall asleep, dreaming of the good food I will eat in due time.

I wake up some time later, and head down to the dining table, and take a seat. A girl comes up and asks me in a sweet and polite voice what I would like to eat, and I say pizza. We had been able to make pizza once in 5, for the whole district to share. I'd love to try it again, and as I said before…

Sapphira immediately starts ordering at least 40 different foods. She rests her feet on the table, totally ignoring the squeaks of disapproval from Cianah. Sighing, Cianah turns to Marcellus and I, and starts to talk. "So, right after you finish eating, you're going to meet your stylists. Marcellus' stylist is named Septimus and Cassia's is Theon. They'll give you your outfits for the chariot ride, and you WILL NOT REFUSE ANYTHING THEY ASK!" Cianah slams her fist on the table and shouts the last bit. I'm startled. I thought Cianah was incapable of screaming. "Oh, dear, I'm sorry! It's just that last year's tributes were… unappreciative and very rude about it. I mean, gracious! Their manners were atrocious."

I can fully understand why the tributes had tried to refuse. They were basically in small scraps of clothing, barely a stitch on. Then the clothes had caught fire onstage, because they had been made out of wire.

My plate is whisked away, and Marcellus and I are taken to a building where we'll be styled, and basically stripped of our privacy. Standing outside the doorway, I brace myself and step inside.


	4. In Which Dresses Are Made

**Onwards, to chapter 4! *raises sword and leads the Knights of Fanfiction* XD Bahaha! XD Okay, well, I present to you chapter 4, I don't own the hunger games, blahblahblah, THAT IS MAHOGANY.**

I nearly let out a shriek. I have been getting hairs ripped off of me for 3 hours. Painful business. The woman that is carrying out this obnoxious torture is called Audrey. A surprisingly normal name for a not-so-surprisingly abnormal woman. She seems to be in her mid 20s, with a bright shock of pink hair that curls around her heart-shaped face. Her unnaturally black eyes bore into mine when I wince.

"Aaand… there. You're done!" I had been scrubbed for the past 3 hours, getting hairs ripped off and such, and now I finally get to meet Theon. I hope he isn't insane, as all of our other stylists have been in the past. From the sound of it they had gotten new stylists for everyone this year. I stand up, wrap myself in a thick, soft robe, and sit down on one of the elegant chairs to wait.

When Theon walks in, I am truly shocked. He is a very white boy who looks like he's 18. Dark blonde, wavy hair is tucked behind his flat ears. He smiles at me with bright white teeth. His face has dark red whirling tattoos on it that gives him an appearance of bleeding. Very, very odd. But somehow comforting.

Maybe this won't be so bad.

Theon clasps my hand, and looks at me. "I take it you're Cassia?" He says in a soft but kind tone. I nod. "I know nothing I say can help the situation, but sorry this happened to you." He says in the same voice. I nod once more. "Yeah, I'm sorry too."

"So, let's get down to business. Now that I've seen you personally, I feel as though the dress I've prepared for you is going to be great." Is he complimenting me or himself? I'm not sure, but he sounds genuinely happy with how I look so I'll just roll with whatever he does.

He leaves for a moment, and comes back with a black bag. "Close your eyes." I can practically hear the smile in his voice. Sliding the dress over my head, he zips up the back and orders me to open my eyes. And I obey.

I cry out in surprise and happiness. The dress, it's beautiful. Gorgeous. It's a black dress that is tight from the chest to my waist, gradually becoming looser as it falls. A pin shaped as a lightning bolt similar to the one sleeve starts a part mid-thigh in the cascading skirt. The dress becomes blue as it flows, eventually stopping at an electric blue. I slip on some black, glittering heels and Theon shapes my hair into an intricate mix of braids and arcs of hair, all leading up into a neat French braid bun.

"Walk," urges Theon. I do, and when I move I give off an appearance of a rainstorm, sending sheets of 'rain' down. "But why rain?" I ask. District 5 represents electricity, not water. "I'm about to show you." Theon grins. "You see that part in the dress?" He hands me a piece of cloth similar to a long sock. I put it on. "Electricity, power – whatever you like to call it, relates directly to lightning, which gives off the appearance of power, right? Move around again." I start to walk across the room. "Well, this sock will cover the leg, giving it a look of lightning." I glance in the mirror and nearly gasp.

My whole right leg looks like it's covered in a glowing streak of lightning. It shines and glitters, making it seem like a powerful bolt. "I think…" I start to say. Theon looks at me anxiously, awaiting my opinion. "That this is the best dress District 5 has ever had in the history of the Games." He smiles, and I'm glad to know I've made him happy. A loud dinging noise is heard. "Oh no! Hurry, go to the chariots or you'll be late!" I start running and tripping over the heels, and make it to the chariot just in time. Climbing up into the wretched contraption, I look at Marcellus. He's finely clothed in a suit that starts out black and fades into blue, just like mine. I grit my teeth. And the chariot starts to move.

The crowd roars with approval at the sight of us. I can hear names being screamed from all over. I catch my name more than once. Marcellus gives a quirky grin and waves at the crowd, sending them into even more of a frenzy.

We finally finish with the chariot ride, and went through the motions. Hours later, I come back to the house, and collapse into bed.


	5. Alliances

**Chapter 5 already. What did you think of Cassia's dress in the last chapter? C:**

"WHAT?" Marcellus and I scream at the same time.

Sapphira had just walked in and told us that as a special addition to the 64th Games, there would only be one day of training, prolonged to 9 hours straight. This is unbelievable. This is infuriating! I don't know who I'm more furious with, the Gamemakers or myself, for believing that these Games would be like the others.

Fuming, I walk out, slamming the door behind me to get dressed for the grueling 9 hours of hardcore training ahead. Pulling on the tight-fitting shirt and pants, I scowl. What are they trying to do? Are they _trying _to get us all p'd off? Chucking my pajamas behind me, I walk out to join Marcellus and Sapphira, and Sapphira escorts us down to the Training Center. I look around at the other tributes, taking note of who I might want to ally with.

_Definitely that girl from 7… Mila, I think._

I watch Mila swordfight with an instructor for a few minutes, and head off to a station called _Weapons: Rocks, Sticks, And Other Things. _I wonder why they have that station this time around. A horrific thought strikes me. What if they don't have weapons this year? I quickly push it away.

It's never been there before, from what I've heard. The station I head for. I fiddle around with some rocks, crashing them together to create sharp tips, and use plant vines, a big but light rock, and a heavyset stick to create a spear. "Try it out on that dummy over there," Suggests the instructor. I grimace, and fling the spear away, watching it dig into the dummy's stretchy, plastic flesh.

A grin slowly spreads across my face. Maybe I'll have a chance if they don't have any weapons this year.

I decide to try my luck at the bow and arrow station. Taking an arrow and bringing it back, I aim for a post quite a bit far away from me. Letting it sail into the air, it hits a bit off target, but who cares? I can use a bow and arrow too, apparently.

I try once more, but miss. Almost instantly I hear a couple of tributes laughing at me. Whirling around, I take one of the heavy arrows that have dull ends, and point it at the District 2 girl, Thalia, who laughed. Squeaking with fear, she runs behind her instructor. _Idiot, she won't be able to hide in the Games._

I laugh and turn back around, jogging over to a weird-looking station that has strange little heavyset axes. I walk up to the instructor. "What are these things?" I pick one up, and it goes flying towards my legs, swinging from its own weight. I scream and jump to the side. The instructor sighs and plucks it out of my hands.

"Battle axe. Egyptians used them." He says shortly. I give him a quick apology for causing the ruckus and train with it. I chop up a dummy, taking off its arms and legs. Handing back over the axe, I walk over to Marcellus, and we walk over to an interesting station with spiked gloves, then visit another station with things called pikes and sarissas. "They were used by the Greeks," explains the instructor.

The rest of the day flies by uneventfully, except for Faustina from 11 breaking down in tears, screaming that she wanted to go home. Poor kid.

But that's how I feel. The Games start tomorrow, for god's sake, and we're only allowed one day of training. Which reminds me. The Games. I need Mila.

I walk over to her and extend my hand. She stares at my hand for a minute. "…Does this mean we're allies?" She asks. I nod. She grabs my hand and we shake. "Would it be okay for 9 to ally with us too?" She nods at a black haired girl fighting a simulation with a knife. I nod again, and she calls 9 over. "Hey 9! Get over here." Running up, 9 looks from me to Mila. "The name's Septima. I know your name is Cassia, but you…" she trails off. "Mila." She says.

We all sit on a mat when it's time for a break. "Okay," I start, whispering. "Tomorrow, Septima and I will go for weapons. Mila, you'll go for one of the larger packs, because you're the strongest. Septima and I will have your back, alright? Try to grab at least one big one or two medium sized ones. Heck, get 3 small ones if you have to. Just get something." Mila and Septima both nod.

Mila chimes in, "What do we do after?" I contemplate this for a moment. "Well, I think it's pretty obvious. Run as far away as you can, as fast as you can, and try not to spread out." Then Septima pipes up. "I'm best with a sword, so I'll grab two of those. A bow and arrow will be helpful, and we have to get at least one knife. Mila, you seem good at hand to hand, so I'll grab one of those spiked gloves for you. No, wait, two. A spear, maybe, Cassia?" I nod. "Septima, Mila, wait. What if they have none of those?"

"Then we grab what we can."

"Okay. 3, 2, 1, break," We whisper, do a fist bump, and go our separate ways.

I only hope we survive through the bloodbath.


	6. Let The Games Begin

**Presenting – chapter 6, where the Games begin!**

I wake up to Sapphira shaking me roughly. "Get up, you idiot, the games are today!" Oh, yeah, now I remember. Training was shortened.

I get out of bed, throw some clothes on, and walk down to breakfast. Marcellus is already there, talking to Cianah and chowing down on something with an odd purple-ish color. Plunking down in a seat, I order a big cup of chocolate milk, this really tasty chicken covered in four different cheeses, and a tiny personal cake. Sapphira stares at us. I stare back and ask "What?".

She flicks her hair back. "I heard you want to be allies with the girls from 7 and 9. I can understand 7, but you really shouldn't trust 9. It'll blow up in your face. Anyways, when you get out there, I want you, Cassia," she points a finger at me, "to get a spear if they have one, and some knives. Maybe a bow and some arrows if they have them. But I want one thing burned into your brain. This goes for both of you."

"Okay…?"

"_Your best bet is getting a knife. _They almost always have those. And also, you should both try to get a personal sized backpack if they have them." Leaning her head back, Sapphira throws a strawberry in the air and catches it in her mouth.

Marcellus and I nod, and continue eating. I have to force myself to eat because my stomach churns just thinking about the Games. Will I die? Will I win? Only time can tell. I wonder what the arena will be like. Something dreadful, most likely. Deserts, snow-capped mountains, and gigantic man-eating plants in jungles whirl inside my head.

My plate is whisked away and I go down to see Theon. His face isn't turned upward with a smile as it usually is. He pulls out a pair of baggy tan pants with numerous pockets, a thin long sleeve black shirt with some type of chainmail as the shirt underneath, and black combat boots. After slipping all of them on, Theon ties back my hair in pigtails with weird styles he calls a fishtail, and hugs me.

"Listen, good luck out there," He smoothes back my hair. "Try to stay alive, all right? 5 could use another winner, and I'm sure your family wants you back." He gives me a sort of half-smile. "I'll miss you," I choke out. "It's the same with me." He stares back at me, and directs me toward a tube.

I have always hated small places, and this tub is only big enough for me to stand in with my arms extended only a little. I press my hands against the glass, and the tube starts to move. "Theon!" I cry out, slamming my fists against the glass. He looks at me for a last moment and right before the tub flies up, I see him press a silky handkerchief against his mouth.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the 64th Hunger Games begin!"

I rise up into a bright light. Squinting, I see that this year's Cornucopia is made out of wood, with weapons glinting in the sunlight. We seem to be in some sort of caveman arena. Looking into the mouth, I see a spear that would work perfectly for me.

A few feet in front of me there is a canteen and some sort of small, hand-sized bag that undoubtedly holds food. And right at my feet there is a tiny string of chains. Looking around, I find Mila, and jerk my head towards the Cornucopia. She nods, and repeats my actions to Septima, who is closer to her than I am. I look around and take in the faces of the other tributes. From 1, there is an arrogant boy named Caelius, his eyes locked on the Cornucopia. From 4, there is a girl named Phillida with one foot in front of her, ready to take off the second the gong sounds. From 8, there is the boy Isolde, and the only other people I recognize are the girls from 2 and 3, Verinia and Zelina.

With a bang the gong sounds and I launch myself off the stand, grabbing the chain, bag, and canteen as I run. Farther up near the Cornucopia I see a set of knives pushed into a pack that will serve its purpose if I grab them. Septima is already at the Cornucopia, taking a sword and one of the three spears that lay there. I grab the knife set and launch myself into the mouth, grabbing the two spears and a medium-sized backpack.

Whirling around, I start run towards the east, screaming for Mila to follow. "Cassia! Help me!" She screams. I turn around just in time to see Septima, laughing as she drives her sword into Mila's shoulder. That traitor! I start to run, to get to her, but Caelius is in front of me, flinging his throwing stars into my stomach. I dive sideways as one hits me in the leg. His fellow Career tribute lets an arrow fly, and it lands in my arm.

Running and yanking the arrow out, I chuck a spear at Septima, and watch it bury itself into her throat. Mila jumps up and, hoisting a bow and a sheath of arrows on her shoulder along with a tiny bag, and we start to sprint. Yanking my 2nd spear out of Septima's throat, Mila and I head towards the east, flying faster than the wind.

What feels like an hour later, Mila and I stumble upon a small clearing surrounded by thick trees and plants. I chuck down my knives and spears, dropping my backpack with a loud _thud._ Mila lets her things fall, and she and I collapse.

"What happened out there?" I wheeze out. Mila gasps for air, then finally answers. "I had two backpacks, when someone comes up behind me and starts trying to stab me. While they were doing that, someone who I think was the guy's ally came up and cut the backpack straps. They took those, so I ran back up towards the Cornucopia and got this stuff." She gestures to the small pack and the bow and arrows. I smile encouragingly. "Well, it's good that you got those. Can you use the bow and arrow?" Unzipping the backpack, Mila nods. "Let's see what we got in the packs."

Mila managed to get one with crackers, some sort of beef, and an empty small water bottle in it, along with a small spool of string and a tiny hook. I have gotten one with numerous food items, two large water bottle filled to bursting, a spool of heavy-duty rope, some type of tiny bottle that claims to purify water, bandages, a sleeping bag, and a spool of – wire?

As for our weapons, we have a bow and a sheath of 15 arrows, 2 spears, a set of 6 knives, and a large hunting knife.

"Wow, we got a lot. I had a bad feeling we would leave with only, like, a knife and a tiny pack or something." Mila laughs. "So what?" I say. "Even then, I'd say… HOORAY FOR FAILURE!" I screech, and we both laugh despite the wounds we have and the fact that we're in the Games.

I patch up Mila's shoulder and she takes care of my arm, leg, and stomach. We decide this is where we'll stay for the night, and I spread out the sleeping bag, unzipping it so we'll both fit and have something soft to lay on. Night has fallen, so Mila hooks her bow around her shoulder and lays on her side with the sheath of arrows next to her. I use the tiny bag I had grabbed from the arena, and tie it around my waist using the rope we had gotten. Sliding the knife into it, I grab one of our spears, and put it down next to my side of the sleeping bag.

I put the canteen and whatnot into the big backpack, and chain our remaining knives and spear to the pack. I lay down, grab my spear, and close my eyes to succumb to the claws of sleep.

But I find it hard to sleep when the Careers come crashing through the bushes.


	7. When Careers Collide

**I can't believe it's already chapter 7… Enjoy!**

I scream, and grab the backpack up and slam my foot into Mila's back to wake her. She wakes up instantly and starts shooting at the Careers. I start hacking away at the Careers with my spear, screeching, stabbing this way and that.

I feel a knife enter my side, and an arrow fly into my arm. I whirl around and bury my spear into the head of the 3 girl, Zelina. She screams as I yank it out.

The boy from 8, Isolde, runs towards me and starts throwing punches with his spiked gloves. I see Caelius stab straight through Mila's arm out of the corner of my eye. Laughing, he calls over his shoulder, "Come on, guys, they're going to die anyway. Let 'em suffer."

Something is wrong with me and my thoughts aren't processing like they should be. I see Caelius and his little gang running off, probably determined to find more tributes. I crawl over to Mila, who is wracking with small spasms on the ground.

Yanking a bandage out of our supply, I assess the damage on her. It's not good. Caelius stabbed her multiple times, and that Zelina girl's arrow has pierced her throat. With a horrible sinking feeling, I lift up her shirt, to take a look at her chest. My own stomach lurches just looking at it.

It's a bloody, mangled mess. Bits and pieces of god-knows-what are open on the inside, and the skin is basically torn away. She's not going to live through the first day.

"Cah," Mila chokes out. She sounds like she's trying to breathe through a bowl of jello. I think she's trying to say my name. "I'm here, Mila, I'm here," I move a bit closer to her and pick up her hand. "'M I going be 'kay?" She coughs up blood. "Uh, uh, yes, you'll be fine," I say desperately. She shakes her head a tiny little bit. "No… not…" Mila rasps.

My heart is burning with hatred for Caelius and those awful Careers. Once I can function again I will kill him. And maybe Septima too.

"S..s…story…?" She gasps out. Is she really asking for a story? I'm not going to refuse a dying wish, so I begin.

"Once when I was about 9, I was painting at school. This painting was lovely and my best work, so I was very proud of it, showing it off to my teacher. Then a girl in my class who got easily jealous… Basil, I think her name was, came up to my painting with a glob of paint in her hand. She smeared it on there and I was heartbroken. My best work, ruined. So you know what I did?" I question.  
"Whu…" Mila rasps quietly. She's slipping away. "I put my foot through _her _painting. She wasn't happy." Mila laughs, a horrible hoarse sound that indicates she won't be here much longer.

Her eyes pop close slowly, and her gasps are shallow. "Win, Cassia." She wheezes with a final shudder. A cannon fires, and she's gone. I feel my throat start to close a little, and tears slide down my face as I look at her.

I grab her hand, rest my lips on it for a second, and stand up.

Grabbing my backpack with a heavy heart, I pick up her sheath of arrows and her bow and stick it in the pack. Picking up my spear, I take one last look at Mila, and walk off to find a new resting place.

My foot slams against a rock. Why, _why _is it so hard to find a place to make camp? I've been walking for hours, and I'm tired, oh, so tired. Fed up, I decide that one of the large trees with a circular opening in the top will work fine. Hauling my bag up, I spread out the sleeping bag, and set my spear down.

My stomach rumbles. Reaching into the bag, I pull out… a sandwich. Nice. Chewing, I look at my surroundings with a pang of guilt. Mila never got to have any of this food. She was probably hungry. Maybe we should have eaten before we tried to sleep.

I take a small sip of water, and try to think of what I should do. It's nightfall, so maybe I should sleep? My heart is racing, so that will be impossible. I settle for laying on the sleeping bag and staring up at the glowing stars in the sky.

After an hour or so, I fall asleep.

Something light and wet is caressing my face. "Stop washing my face, Mila," I mumble, then I remember; Mila is dead. I shoot up and grab my spear, holding it out towards – a dog? The thing barks happily and wags its tail.

Looking around, the terrain isn't the same as it was yesterday. I'm now laying on top of my sleeping bag, that is settled on a hard dirt floor.

"Hey boy, what happened?" I ask the dog, scratching its ear. This dog is kind of cute. But there's something strange about it. It seems to be growing. The teeth are growing longer and sharper, and the claws are doing the same. I stare at the once cute, now evil dog, as it lunges at me.

That's when I decide to pack up and run.

I sling the backpack over my shoulder, stuffing the sleeping bag into it as I run. I whip around and, grabbing a knife from our supply, fling it and watch it sink into the dog's back, where I think it's heart is. It gives a yelp, and I have time to run farther away.

I find another tree like the one I had stayed in, and climb up. I look over my shoulder as I climb, grinning because I have wounded the dog and escaped without a scratch.

But my grin drops, because as I come to the top of the tree, I find myself face to face with Septima.


	8. Galla

**Sorry I haven't updated for a few days! I've been kind of busy, and I gotta admit I've been a bit lazy. And I've sort of lost my feel for writing, but I'm getting back into it c:**

I shriek and try to climb down, but mutts have gathered underneath me. So, I'm faced with two options:

One, I could try and launch myself off to the side, avoiding Septima. But then I would have to face the mutts. For another, I could climb up, but then I would be forced to battle with Septima, which I'm in no condition to do.

While I'm debating, Septima has snatched up a knife, and is advancing towards me. I fling myself over a bit, hanging on to a separate branch. I put my feet up to the tree, and kick off, crashing to the ground.

_Not smart, not smart, that was a stupid move, _I think, scrambling to my feet and taking off. Septima is flying through the trees to my left, and the mutts are following behind me, fast and furious. Now I've done it! I must be the most insane girl in the Games. Now I have both following me.

As I nearly careen into a tree, I spot something shimmering in the light. A river! I could hide from the mutts there, and maybe they wouldn't smell me. And it would clean out my injuries.

I crash through the greenery beside me, hopefully throwing Septima and the mutts off course. I run sideways, and throw myself into the river. This place is deep.

I swim downwards, and the light fades. _Ha! _I think. _Maybe I've actually outsmarted them. _But this has its disadvantages. I can only stay under for so long, and I'm already out of breath from running.

Swimming behind the small waterfall, I resurface, gasping for air. At least I can breathe again. Maybe this place wouldn't be a bad site to set up camp on.

Looking around, I realize this place is perfect. It's right next to an endless water supply. There's a cave behind the waterfall that I could stay in. Grinning, I fling down my bag and take out the smaller one from inside it, putting the sleeping bag, the hunting knife, the rope, water bottle, and a small bit of food in. Now I've got an emergency pack.

A rock flies into the water and I hear swearing. Septima must have lost sight of me. If I stayed in this small cave for a while without being found, I might actually have a chance at winning the Games.

Suddenly, the cursing has stopped and from what little I can hear, it sounds like Septima is tearing through the woods trying to find me.

I lay down on my sleeping bag and fall asleep.

**THE NEXT DAY**

I wake up to the sound of humming. Some sort of light and airy tune.

Wait. Someone's in my cave.

My eyes fly open and I grab my spear, pointing it at some girl in my cave. "Who are you?" I snarl. The girl looks offended. Tying her orange, wavy hair back, she blinks her blue-green eyes and says plainly, "I'm Galla. From 11."

"Why in gods' name are you in my cave?" I snap, rubbing my eyes. She rolls hers in reply. "Well, duh, we're allying." Galla gives me a goofy smile.

I'm stunned. So this Galla girl just waltzes in and decides we're allying? I mean, I know I've survived a couple of days without getting major injuries, but…

"Uh," I start out. What can I say? "I'm Cassia…"

"Cool," She replys, grabbing my water bottle out of my hands and taking a long drink. "Hey!" I screech. "Shut up, you'll draw the other tributes near!" She giggles.

Who does this chick think she is? Dancing around the cave, singing, declaring we're allies, then she drinks MY water? Oh, _heck _no. I snatch the water bottle back. Assertion of dominance. "I do believe you should get your OWN water bottle." I grin. Suddenly, Galla is holding me down by the throat. "_Give me the water,"_ She growls, staring me dead in the eyes. I relinquish the water to her. Then she's back to her happy little deranged self.

The rest of the day flies by, with Galla chattering about music and orchards and her family and how she's great with a bow and some type of food she just can't get enough of. After hearing Galla laugh and scream and shout and talk for who-_knows-_how-many-hours, I break. "ENOUGH!" I burst out. This girl is driving me insane.

"Please," I beg. "For 5 minutes, just 5, _shut up so I can have some peace."_ I realize I sound close to tears. Good. Maybe the insane girl will shut up.

Galla stares at me. I stare back. Finally, after about an hour of silence, she rips through the silence. "Sorry," She says in a small voice.

"It's alright," I hurriedly apologize. I have come to a conclusion that Galla's unstable but a nice ally when I hear a splash outside the cave.

Our heads snap towards the sound. Galla starts chattering nervously. "Shut up," I hiss, and start throwing things in the backpack for our quick escape. I toss the bow and arrows to her and grab my spear, ready for battle. A person runs in the cave and I throw my spear just as Galla lets an arrow soar.

But what I wasn't prepared for was seeing a small boy fly backwards into the river.


End file.
